The word “favorite” gets thrown around pretty freely in our house. First and foremost, “You’re my favorite,” is probably my favorite (see? there it is again) thing that Trevor says to me. I think I like it even more than “I love you.”
Since this has always been something that we’ve said to each other, we found it tricky not to say it to Pippa after she was born, whenever she would do something particularly endearing (which is *all* the time). Now that there are three precious and irresistible little girls in our life… well, you can see where this is going. We say it to all of them! (You can only imagine the looks we get from people who only hear us saying it to one of them. Apparently, this is *not* something you’re supposed to say to children?) But we *mean* it! Any parent of more than one child knows this bizarre, paradoxical sort of love. You think with each one’s impending arrival that you will never possibly be able to love the new one as much as the others, but the love is always there, and each child really and truly is “the favorite”.
But I digress. The reason I have been thinking about favorites is this fantastic new book that I’ve started going through with some other married ladies at church.
I have only worked through the very first lesson of the very first chapter, and already I can tell this book and the accompanying study are going to hit hard. Try this question on for size: “Have I burdened my husband with being the source of my self esteem?” Yikes! If not the source, then certainly a source. I count myself incredibly blessed to be called his “favorite” most of the time, but what of the days when I’m not? (What of the days when I don’t deserve to be because I’m acting like a spoiled little girl?!?)
The bottom line is: my value does not (and should not) come from my husband’s high esteem, it comes from my Maker’s. We, the human race, are God’s favorite. We bear the unique distinction of being made in His image, and while He called all of His creation “good”, only mankind was pronounced “very good.” Just wow! When I relate this favoritism to my crazy love for our girls, and remember that the Bible is clear that a parent’s love for a child is only a glimpse of the Heavenly father’s love for His children, I am awestruck! If the God who created the universe loves me that much, then why would I look to anyone else for my value?
(Note: The title of this post is shamelessly lifted from this adorable book the girls have out of the library right now. We especially love when Daddy reads it: he does a pretty mean British accent!)
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So true!
And I DO love that Charlie/Lola book. I gave it to Lydia for her snowflake party this year!
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